Riven
by Batwynn
Summary: Writing Prompt: Loki went missing from his punishment in Asgard and two years later The Avengers find him, beaten and almost dead. [ This may have a second part.]
1. A Sloppy Introduction

Prompt:  
Loki went missing from his punishment in Asgard and two years later The Avengers find him, beaten and almost dead

* * *

beta'd by Nev

* * *

No one talked about Loki for months. He was out of the Avenger's hair. As they say, 'out of sight, out of mind'. The few times Thor came to Earth, he never brought it up and no one asked. That is, until Loki vanished from his prison on Asgard.

That's when Thor finally broke down and told them the conditions of Loki's punishment. He spoke bitterly of his brother's trial, his gaze growing distant with every word. He explained how had been Loki was imprisoned, touching briefly on the sort of things that happened down there. The group listened in absolute silence, biting back any comments they had as Thor went on. When Steve had heard enough about the torture, withholding food, and forcing Loki's magic away; he shared a few sharp words and abruptly left.

"Don't worry about it, Point Break," Tony said, seemingly unfazed. "Rogers is all American, all the way. Things like oppression and torture don't fit his morals."

"They should not fit anyone, Stark," Thor replied irritably.

"No, they really shouldn't. I would know, having been on the less 'fun' side of torture before."

Thor gave him a curious look before glancing at the remaining Avengers. Over all, they looked unimpressed. Whether it was over Asgard's methods, or simply lack of sympathy for his bother, Thor did not know. Clint muttered something and ended up with an elbow in the rib from Natasha. He cast a half hearted glare at her and joined the captain, clearly finished with the conversation.

"I know that you're worried about him, Thor," Agent Romanoff started, leaning forward on the couch. "But our main concern is his current motives. Do you think he will return here to finish what he started?"

Thor smiled weakly and stood to leave. "I almost wish he would. That way, at least we would know where he is and I could return him to Asgard with ease."

Tony snorted and lounged back into the couch like he owned the place. Well, he did actually. It had originally been his tower. So what if the Avengers, sort of, commandeered it.  
"You make it sound like we did it so easily last time. You and I remember New York very differently, Thor."

"That was a different time," Thor replied quietly. His face closed off as he fidgeted with his hammer. "There is little left to my brother now. He is no longer the giant you remember. He is weak. He is… small."

* * *

One year later, Thor stopped coming to Earth. According to Fury, there was some political drama going on that needed his attention. Tony briefly wondered if Thor even bothered to let his girlfriend know before he ran off. Speaking of girlfriends, he and Pepper were going through this thing. He didn't have a word for it, because it wasn't a break up. It was a thing.

"Why do you cut me out like that?" Pepper asked for the hundredth time. She had been asking a lot of questions like this lately.  
Why don't you take your sleep medication?  
Why do you think that's funny?  
Why can't you remember my birthday?  
Why are you so selfish?

That last one really hurt. Considering how much Tony liked to give her, it seemed unfair. He gave up a lot of work, tons of Avengers missions, and a good chunk of control over his company. He took her out to operas and for dinners. He spent time with her going over paper work. I mean, that alone should be recognized as a wholly unselfish move. He hated paper work almost as much as a certain terrorist group.  
So he had trouble sleeping, that was nothing new. So what if he woke up in the middle of night having a panic attack and had to leave the room. He let her sleep, wasn't that generous?

"Why do you keep asking me these things about my personality?" Tony snapped back, his patience finally waning.

"You've changed, Tony. Into what, I don't know. But I don't like it."

Tony glared at her over his now cold cup of coffee. "No, you know what? I haven't changed. Someone once told me to never change for another person, and trust me when I say I haven't. I'm the same sarcastic, genius, bastard I've always been. It's you who can't seem to deal with that anymore."

"Tony," she started, her voice softening into that pitying tone he had started to hate.

"Don't. Don't start. You want something you can't have. I don't know where you got this idea that I'm supposed to cater to you and only you, but it's officially gone too far."

"I have shit to do, Peps," he said, standing up and dumping the coffee into the sink. "I think I've put it off long enough while I tried to please you. Let me know if you remember the man you loved, not this idealistic hero you seem to think I am."

So, that was the thing. It turned into a break up very soon after, leaving Tony both confused and hurt. He didn't do very well for the next year, seeing as he wasn't used to either of the emotions. He drank, of course. He went out on missions piss-drunk and, luckily, hadn't killed anyone. Yet.  
He built twelve new suits with completely unique functions. He was still fidgeting with the invisibility one when the tower exploded. Well, it didn't really explode, part of it did.

"Someone please tell me that wasn't Bruce going 'Hulk Smash' in the lab," he grumbled into the intercom. "I could feel that all the way down in the basement."

"Stark, get up here now."

"Will do. Once I know where the hell 'here' is."

"Penthouse. Top floor. NOW!"

"Jesus Steve, you get so whiny when there's trouble. I'll be right there."

He wiped off his hands on his already ruined jeans and headed for the elevator. Rogers would have told him if his suit was needed. So what ever it was, it sounded like a domestic dispute.  
Tony hummed to himself, once again considering putting in a speaker for elevator music. Maybe a little AC/DC.  
He sauntered out as the doors opened, immediately greeted by a cloud of dust.

"God dammit, Steve!" He yelled out. "You said he didn't Hulk out!"

"I didn't," came a quiet voice to his left. Tony jumped and looked at Bruce curiously. The scientist was leaning against the wall next to the elevator as if preparing to flee.

"Bruce," Tony said with a frown. "If you're here, why does it look like someone destroyed my home?"

"Because someone did. Go look for yourself."

"Aren't you going to join me?"

"I'm still trying not to throw up," he replied, shaking his head a little. "I can't… I can't look at that again yet."

Tony arched an eyebrow and headed to where most of the dust and rubble was. He stepped up to Steve, nodding his head in acknowledgement. Both agents were nowhere to be seen, but what was very visible was a lump in the middle of the floor. That and the massive hole in his roof.

"For fucks sake. I swear more of my shit gets broken than is theoretically possible."

"What I don't understand," Steve said in a tight, angry voice. "Is what he's doing here."

"Who?"

Steve gave him a pointed look and turned away, leaving Tony to stare down at the lump. As the dust cleared, it became apparent that the lump was not actually a lump, but a person.

"Who the…" Tony stopped, his breath catching in his chest.

"Loki."

* * *

Tony remembered Thor's words as soon as he recognized the figure.  
'Small' was one word for it. Broken beyond recognition was another. Mutilated worked too.

"Now I get Bruce's reaction," Tony said quietly, crouching down to get a better look. Loki was in one layer of his leather armor. It was in surprisingly good condition, considering that Loki's body was torn to shreds. Someone, or something had gone after the god's face again and again. Layers of cuts and half healed scars covered his cheeks, neck, shoulders. Everywhere.

"This," Tony started, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise. "This can't be from Asgard. It's been two years. Where the fuck has he been?"

"I don't know," Steve said with a frown. "All I know is, we need to contact Thor right away. Either he has some explaining to do, or we have an enemy worse than Loki out there."

"I'd say both. Let's get him out of this hole." Tony stood and glared up at the ceiling. "I'm gonna need something for my new skylight here."

"Clint and Agent Romanoff are taking care of that. They want nothing to do with Loki."

"Yeah, there's a surprise." Tony stretched and frowned down at the bloody mess called Loki. They were going to have to be extremely careful when the moved him. "Hang on," he said. "Do we know if he's even alive?"

"I'm not going to find out."

"Pull that stick out from your ass and help me lift the mass murderer out of the god damned creator in my living room."

Steve wasted a moment to glare at Tony in his usual disapproving way before sliding down to help. Tony slipped one arm under Loki's back and hoisted him up. Steve, being stronger, ended up pulling Loki right out of Tony's arms with a single jerk.

"Oh," Tony said quietly, letting go. "I think you got this."

"I don't want to have this," Steve replied testily. "But your stature doesn't exactly make you the best candidate to carry him."

"Gee, thanks," Tony snapped, crawling out of the hole in front of him. "Don't think I haven't looked at your file, buddy. I know how small and weasely you were before you drank the mojo juice."

"That has nothing to with any of this. If you don't mind, I just want to put him somewhere and go talk to Fury."

Tony followed in silence as the solider passed him and walked down the hall, every so often making faces at the back of Rogers' head. When he tried to complain about the fact that Steve was using his bed for the bloody body dump, the soldier just gave him a pitying look and left.

"Seriously?" Tony asked the closed door. "Not everyone's so self sacrificing as you, you fucking golden retriever."

He turned and eyed his beautiful king size bed, now filled with icky god. "Well, first things first. Let's see if the bastard is even alive."

Tony snuck closer to the bed carefully and jabbed a finger at Loki's neck to check for his pulse. He got the next best thing, Loki woke up screaming.

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed, snatching his hand away and falling backwards. Loki took a breath and uttered a softer, more whimpering scream. His back arched away from the bed as if the mere contact of it was killing him. Tony jumped up and came closer, unsure if he should touch him or not.

"Loki? Uh, Reindeer Games?"

No response except for the soft keening sounds he was making while he continued to writhe in pain.

"Okay, listen to me," Tony said, pushing the god down into the blankets. "Wriggling around is not going to help you!"

Loki's eyes snapped open and focused on him immediately. What Tony saw in them completely surprised him.

Fear.  
Paralyzing, irrational, painful  
Fear.

A minute passed where Tony thought the god might lash out at him. But he didn't, and the fear ease out of Loki's eyes. He nearly smiled as he spoke.

"Ah, at last," he croaked weakly. "Someone to kill me."

* * *

Loki passed out again immediately after dropping the bomb. Tony sat there gaping at him for twenty minutes or so until Loki's eyes snapped open again.

"For fucks sake!" Tony jumped again, slithering further away from him. Loki stared up at the ceiling, letting out a bitter laugh.

"Why am I not dead yet?"

"Good question," Tony agreed, scooting closer again to lean over him. He was looking a little better. Slightly less like a corpse. "You looked pretty dead when you uh… arrived in my tower."

"By arrived, I mean you smashed through my ceiling," he continued with a frown.

Loki scoffed and rolled his eyes to the heavens.  
"I care not for your phallic symbol of a tower. Just kill me and let it be over with."

"Did you just call my tower… a penis?"

Loki sat up and hissed in pain, his eyes growing dangerously dark again. "Enough!" He snapped, curling closer to Stark. "Kill me, or shut up."

"I'm not here for you to yell at me," Tony replied calmly, tilting his head to the side. "Also, not killing you. So stop."

Loki froze, a lost, hopeless expression forming on his face. He continued to gaze at Tony as if he had just shared the worst news in the world with him.

"Please…"

Tony paled, his mouth dropping open in disbelief. "Excuse me?!"

Loki swallowed and continued to stare into Tony's eyes. "Please kill me."

"Uh, no," Tony said quietly, shifting forward to look him up and down. Only the older scars seemed to be healing, the fresh ones were still bloody and raw. "Care to explain all this? I mean, Thor said you were being treated like shit… But that was two years ago."

Loki choked. "Only two years?!" He laughed, a dry painful sound lacking any humor. "It was much more than that, Stark."

"It's two years since you left Asgard," Tony said patently. "Nice trick, by the way. How'd you do that?"

"I didn't. I was removed by force."

"Okaaaay… I assume by those assholes who did this to you," Tony said, gestering to Loki's body.

"Yes. But It was not two years."

Tony grumbled and nodded his head. "Okay," he agreed. "Explain it a little better."

Loki scoffed and pulled his knees up to his chest with a painful wheeze. "I do not answer to you. Leave me be until one who is willing to kill me arrives."

"No one is fucking killing you! You got that?"

Loki sneered over his knees and closed his eyes. "Why do you care, Stark?" He asked nastily. "I never thought you a sentimental man."

"I'm not," Tony replied with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He frowned and looked at it, realizing he had just smeared Loki's blood in it. "Look, I'm not letting anyone kill you. By the looks of it, you got what you deserved and then some." He smiled faintly at the god, trying to sound reassuring.  
"So, how about you get cleaned up and then we figure out what to do with you."

"I refuse to return to Asgard. I cannot…" Loki frowned and opened his eye to look at Stark once more. Again, they showed fear. "I cannot bare their punishments after what I have gone through. I would rather die."

"No one said anything about sending you back there. A lot of us here actually have morals." Tony paused and snorted. "Okay, so mostly Captain Spangles. But none of is agree with the whole torture thing. Me more than anyone."

That seemed to get a reaction out of him. An eyebrow raised in question. "You of all people? Why?"

"I've been there. That's all," Tony replied shortly, standing up and grumbling. "Go get in the shower if you can. I'll find some clothes or…" He paused as Loki shimmered in a wash of gold, reappearing dressed in a loose fitting tunic and leather pants. He was still heavily bruised and bloodied, but he had somehow cleaned off most of the mess.

"Okay, so apparently you own a magic washing machine-shower combo."

That earned him another glare. Hey, at least the guy was responding now.

"Loki," Tony started, looking at him seriously. "I know why you want to die, but I think I have a better plan. Okay?"

Loki snarled, "You presume to understand my feelings, you pathetic―"

Tony stuck a finger over Loki's mouth roughly. Whatever the god had expected him to do, it wasn't that. "Shut up. I do get it, to an extent. My understanding is just about as much as you're gonna get around here. No one else is going to be as nice. Got it?"

Loki's glare softened, replaced with a curious look. He nodded. Tony kept his finger there and continued, "I want you to tell them what happened. Who did this to you, and for how long. Bury that damn pride of yours and let them know you suffered." He sighed and jabbed Loki's lips with the finger before leaning back. "If you want this all to stop, they need to know that you suffered enough already."

Loki continued to stare at him, tilting his head a little to the side. "Why do you care?"

"Because I'm not a hero and I don't believe in justice. I believe in people changing. I believe in learning by suffering," he said, his voice growing softer. "I believe in these things because I changed only because I suffered."

Loki laughed a small, quiet laugh. It wasn't a bitter laugh, or a bag-of-cats crazy laugh. It was almost a giggle. It was almost charming.

"I see. I think I understand you a little more," Loki said with a smile. "Stark."

"Yeah well, I think I understand you a lot more."

"Indeed, it seems you do." Loki paused, a flash of irritation at his own words. "Only a little."

"Oh, don't ruin the moment. We were having a moment there."

Loki scowled. "We were NOT having a moment!"

"We so were." Tony flashed a grin and offered a hand to the god. "It's ruined now, thanks Rock of Ages."

Loki looked at the hand and back at him in confusion.

"Come on," Tony urged. "Move your ass."

"Where are we going?"

"To make things right," Tony said, reaching down and grabbing Loki's hand. "Let's go suffer for the sake of freedom."


	2. Subtle is Not My Name

BETA'd by Nev :D

* * *

When they entered the ruined living room, Tony let out a grunt of surprise at the sight of Thor sitting on his littered couch. "Did Fury get you a cell phone or something?"

Loki's raspy voice came from behind him quietly. "Heimdal."

Thor stood abruptly, his face going from concern to anger in seconds.  
Instead of attacking him, as Thor seemed to expect, Loki shuffled behind Stark slightly. The dark-haired god remained there as if he expected Thor to attack him instead. His brother was now looking at him sadly, the thunderer's expression showing nothing more hostile than a strong desire to hug Loki.

"Thor, buddy," Tony said as cheerfully as possible. "Why don't you sit down. You're being kind of extremely intimidating."

With a frown still firmly in place, Thor sat down on the edge of a cushion. "Please explain this to me, Stark."

Tony held back about ten nasty remarks and stepped around some rubble, glancing up at the hole in his ceiling yet again. "So Loki showed up all FUBAR and broke my ceiling."

Clint let out a nasty snigger from somewhere in the corner while Thor frowned in confusion. Tony glanced at the archer, only now noticing his presence in the room. That was not a good sign. When Clint went ninja, he was in hunter mode. Hunter mode was less fun than drinking buddy mode.

"What has FUBAR done to my brother?" Thor asked, rage once again flashing across his face.

"Fucked up behind all recognition," Tony amended, keeping his eyes away from the bloody welt in his floor. He didn't want to be reminded of how Loki looked when he first showed up. He looked bad enough now.

"I still do not—"

"Loki looked as though someone had been torturing him for months," Steve interrupted, his voice steady but heavy with disapproval. Apparently, even venomous gods didn't deserve such torture. Trust the Captain to take Loki's side first. Well, technically second. Tony got first dibs.

"Loki," Thor spoke to his brother softly, trying to meet his eyes over Stark's shoulder. "Is this true?"

"Why would you believe me?!" Loki snapped, shifting closer to Tony's back and placing a hand there to stay balanced.

Tony did his best to suppress the shudder that threatened to crawl up his spine. Loki's delicate fingers were oddly ticklish to him. "Hey now," he said calmly, trying to distract himself from the feeling. "Let's not fight about this."

"Thor," he addressed the blond. "Take our word for it, we all saw him in a bloody mess on my floor. I mean, look at him now. He's only half as pretty."

Loki scoffed and gave him a look that promised a painful rebuttal later. Tony hated to admit that he was somewhat looking forward to it. He'd been bored lately. Maybe a god being thrown through his roof was exactly what he needed.

Tony shrugged, watching amusement settle into the god's green eyes. Loki seemed to be healing at a faster rate now. The shadows of pain had left his eyes, at last.

"Tony?"

"What?" He asked turning to face Thor again. Thor blinked and looked over to Clint. Tony's mind caught up, realizing that it was the archer who had spoken. "Oh, sorry. What?"

"I asked you why you are standing there like Loki's knight In shining armor?"

"Uhhh..." Tony paused and glanced at Thor. His little speech about freedom wasn't exactly going to fly with Clint. It was more personal to him. Mind control and all that shit.

"Well," he started again, "I thought one of you might attack him, so I decided to be a meat shield."

"And why, pray tell, would you do that?" Clint asked, his voice dripping with venom.

"Because as much of an asshole as I am, I'm not about to let you castrate someone who's just gone through god knows how many years of torture."

Clint made a sound not unlike a hiss and left the room. Tony hoped that he was scuttling off into Natasha's arms for a little relaxing spy sex. Anything to ease that tension would be great.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes sir?"

"Order some pizza for us, and some of that apple ale stuff Legolas loves so much."

"Buttering him up, sir?"

"You know me so well. Just do it."

"Right away, sir," Jarvis responded with a hint of amusement.

"Buttering?" Thor asked the ceiling.

"The act of—"

"Mute," Tony interrupted. "Can we get back on topic here? I want to finish our discussion before the pizza arrives. I can't concentrate on two things at once."

Steve made a small sound of disapproval from the back of his throat. Tony ignored it, as usual.

"So, Reindeer Games here is not going back to Asgard," Tony said, turning and patting Loki's shoulder cheerfully. "Just putting that out there."

"Stark, I cannot promise that your wishes will be answered," Thor replied uneasily.

"That wasn't a wish, that was a fact." Tony spun around, facing the clearly startled Loki. "Right, hun?"

"Y-yes?"

"He means 'yes' with more confidence," Tony said over his shoulder. "For now," he added, facing Loki again. "He's staying here."

"What about Fury?" Steve asked tiredly. "He said that Thor makes the final decision, but if Loki is going to stay on Earth..."

"He's gonna want a piece of him, huh?"

Steve nodded and frowned.

Thor cleared his throat and glanced uneasily at his brother. "Loki, do you wish to stay here? I cannot deceive Heimdal, but I may be able to convince father that you have suffered enough."

Loki switched on his classic sneer, with that hint of condescension. "Do you truly believe your simple words would be enough to sway any decision of his? Do you not remember the last time you attempted to speak your way out of trouble?" Loki's smile widened. "I believe it ended with you being cast out of Asgard."

"You dare!?" Thor boomed, launching himself from the couch.

Tony kept his 'Ooh burn' to himself, instead opting to once again stand between Loki and the person he had angered.  
"Cut it out, Loki. You're not exactly helping with that silver tongue of yours."

"Silver is, after all, a bitter metal," Loki replied smoothly.

"What, do you make a habit of licking metals? Is there something I should know?" Tony turned away from the still annoyed Thor. "Am I going to wake up in the middle of the night and find you licking one of my Iron Man suits?"

Loki scowled, but his eyes sparked with amusement. "I am not some pet of yours to keep. It was figurative."

"Good, I don't want to have to break out the spray bottles."

Thor openly gaped at the both of them as they exchanged words. He looked torn between hitting them both with his hammer, or sitting down with some popped corn.

"Brother, when did you and Stark become friendly?"

"I am not—"

"Right around the time where he wasn't throwing me out a window," Tony interrupted cheerfully.

There was a chime from the door.  
"Sir, the pizza has arrived. The apple ale will be here in a half hour."

"Okay guys, enough chatter. Time to eat!"

Thor glanced at Loki, trying to decipher his blank face. When Loki gave nothing back in return, he turned away to follow the eager Stark.

"Have you guys eaten pizza before?"

Thor managed a smile. "Jane shared it with me before I... before I returned home for a while."

Tony looked at Loki and frowned. "How about you, goat boy?"

Loki scowled at the paper plate that Stark slid under his nose. He didn't answer, but started breaking off small pieces of the slice and nibbling on it. He looked oddly pained as he did so.

"You don't have to be so reserved," Tony said, already with a mouthful of cheese and sauce. "You can stuff your face."

"I cannot eat too much at once, considering how little I had to eat... before. It would make me ill."

Tony felt the food in his mouth lose its taste. He swallowed dryly and put the slice he had just been delving into with gusto on the plate. He kept his head down, his eyes not seeing the messy pizza on his plate, but memories flickering past.

"Yeah... I know what you mean. I made myself sick after I came back too. Ate too many burgers." He paused, his fingers curling into a fist on the counter in front of him. "I just kept eating, though. Like I wanted to be sure they were real. Nothing's ever tasted so good in my life."

Tony frowned down at his hands, wondering why he bothered to share that before there was a small sound. He looked up in time to see the piece of pizza fall from Loki's fingers. His facade was down, showing Tony the true Loki, haunted and alone. He expression slid from startled to something of relief. Maybe not so alone.

"I shall be more careful than you," Loki said in his perfect leering voice. Almost perfect. His still open expression sort of ruined the effect.

"Whatever, Reindeer Games."

_

Stark persisted in staying by his side at all times. At first, Loki was grateful for the much needed protection he provided. He may look healed, but he could feel broken ribs shift as he moved, a fracture in his shoulderblade from the impact, and something was wrong with his pelvic bone. The latter was the most annoying of the injuries. He could mask his pain from the others, but it was difficult to walk normally. Loki needed to appear as normal and unharmed as possible, lest any of the pathetic mortals got it into their minds to attack him. It was hard to admit, but he wasn't in any state to fight them right now.

When the mortal followed him into the bathroom to show him how things worked, Loki had to draw the line. He kicked him out and changed into the strange Midgardian clothing set out for him by the bath. Loki stared at himself in the mirror, seeing his face for the first time in many many years.

He no longer recognized what the mirror reflected. His dark hair was longer than it had even been, tumbling down in a ragged mess well past his shoulders. His green eyes were sunken, surrounded by deep shadows from years of suffering. He smiled bitterly, reaching up and touching his sharp cheekbones.

"I look like a ghost, not a god," he muttered before turning away and leaving the mirror to reflect nothing.

"So, you get to sleep in my bed," Stark said as Loki joined him once more. There was a hint of bitterness in his voice. "I'm in a love hate relationship with this bed, so treat her right."

"I do not wish to take your sleeping space." Loki paused with a sneer. "To wake smelling of you would be rather unpleasant as well."

"I wouldn't complain, I smell a hundred times better than you right now."

Loki flinched, just a little. He had smelt worse before his escape. No, it was best not to think about it. "Fine," he snapped, sitting on the edge of the bed stiffly. "Where will you sleep?"

Tony gestured with a thumb over at an arm chair by the window.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Keeping an eye on me? Whatever happened to this 'freedom' you preached not so long ago?"

"Hey, you're free to roam around my parts of the tower for all I care." He paused and frowned. "Well, not my workroom."

"But I doubt everyone else would be pleased to see you if you wandered into their territory," he added, throwing himself into the armchair. He let out a long, exhausted sigh. "I guess I'm also here for moral support."

"Moral support..." Loki scoffed. "Trying to appeal to my humanity again, Stark?"

Tony let out a huff of amusement and opened one eye lazily. "Shut up and go to sleep. If you have bad dreams, I'll sing you a lullaby."

"I do not have bad dreams."

"I would if I were you."

Loki glowered at the mortal and slithered under the blankets quickly, turning his back on Stark. He wasn't overly concerned about an attack, seeing as he could twist around and end the man's life before he even began to approach the bed. Loki heard the inventor shift around a little, making a few grunts in complaint before the room fell silent. Loki continued to listen carefully, his eyes remaining wide and starting into the darkness.

How was it possible for a room in the middle of such a bright city to be so dark? It was a seamless darkness, not a crack of light anywhere. A darkness that was all too familiar to Loki. He felt his heart begin to race as the memory of the smells from his freezing cell started to choke him once again. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. Just pain, and darkness, and the smell.

"Loki?"

The voice came from right behind him. He spun with a snarl, his hand easily finding Stark's throat in the darkness. The man let out a squeak before it was silenced by Loki's fingers closing tighter. Panting, he pulled the mortal closer, finding a light in the room at last.

The circlet of light in Stark's chest was glowing just as he remembered. Only, in the darkness of the room, it seemed twice as bright. He stared at it idly, his mind still shaking free of the memories.

"Lo...k..." Tony gurgled.

Loki let go, jerking back from him. "My... my apologies," he said, his heartbeat beginning to slow down. "I thought you were... something else."

Tony coughed a few times and tried to speak, only to send himself into another bout of coughing. Loki watched him in the dim light, attempting to gage the mortal's reaction.

"It's fine," he finally managed to wheeze. "It's not like this is the first time."

"True," Loki responded, slipping easily into his magniloquent tone. "Although, last time was intentional."

"Yeah, I think I remember."

Loki chuckled nastily and shifted back, narrowing his eyes in the gloom. "Why do you bother to keep your room so dark, when you have a light with you at all times?"

"This?" Tony asked, throwing himself down next to Loki on the bed. He coughed once more and looked down at his chest. "I guess I just got used to it. "Honestly," he added more quietly, " I usually sleep with a light on. I thought you would be more comfortable in the dark."

"It seems I am not," Loki admitted bitterly.

"Yeah, noted."

"I did not have bad dreams."

Tony snickered and ignored the comment, saying something about lights to the ceiling instead.

The voice Loki had heard before responded before the lights came on dimly.

"There we go, no more nightmares for the Loki-kins."

"I can still kill you, Stark, if you do wish to continue down that line."

Tony flashed him a grin and launched himself off the bed, once more heading for the arm chair. "No thanks, I've struggled way too long to give up and die now."

Loki raised an eyebrow, but nodded solemnly. So did he.

"But seriously," Tony added, curling up like a cat on the chair, "get some fucking sleep. This fight is far from over. We get Fury tomorrow."

Loki grimaced, causing another laugh from Stark before he waved a hand at him and closed his eyes.  
Loki watched the mortal in the dim light, waiting for anymore commentary. When none came, he once more returned to the blankets, this time facing the chair. His eyes remained on the small circle of blue until he finally fell asleep.


	3. The Storm's Fury

Nick Fury showed up in the only mood setting he had. No one can say he didn't live up to his name.

There was something to be said about the man's level of intimidation. The rather threatening amount of leather and that eyepatch worked wonders. Tony considered, for a moment, if he should get one for himself to frighten his enemies away with a single look. He then remembered that his 20 plus guns and flying suit seemed to manage just fine.

"You mean to tell me, that he hasn't started killing anyone yet?"

"Not yet," Tony replied, "no."

"Where is he, then?" Fury asked, not nicely. "I think I want to see the extent of the damages inflicted on him."

"Why's that?" Tony asked, knowing full well why.

"Call it a guilty pleasure."

"How about we don't, and say we did."

"How 'bout you do what I tell you, Stark. Before I bring my team in here and take him out by force?"

Tony leveled his gaze and stared for a long moment at the man. As much as ticking Fury off was his all time favorite pastime, perhaps today it was not the best idea. Seeing as Loki's safety somewhat relied on the director's mood.

"Sure," he said, keeping his tone confident even as his heart sank. "Let me just go _fetch_ his Goatlyness."

He paused in the hall only a few feet from his bedroom where the god was hiding. Tony had told him to stay out of sight until they could work things out. Of course Fury decided to skip the whole 'work things out' vibe and go right for the 'get the alien and torture him'.

Tony leaned against the wall, pinching his nose as his thoughts ran wild. There were a hundred ways or more that he could get Loki out of here. Only twenty of them included going past Fury. Three of them included doing so over Fury's dead body. He had really narrowed it down when he remembered the helipad on the roof. It was new, added in while they were up there fixing it up after a certain attack.

The real problem was, what to do after they escaped? He wasn't about to elope with some half crazy, greasy haired, possibly lying god of chaos. There was room for only one person with PTSD on the eloping boat, and no room for a bag of cats.

"Has he left?"

Tony flinched and had his arms up in a defensive possession before he even knew what he was doing. Loki looked less startled and more amused.

"Oh wipe that smirk off your pretty face," Tony snapped, letting his hands drop. "And no he hasn't left. I'm here to collect you."

Loki's smile vanished, replaced immediately by a look of utter betrayal. "I..." He paused, at lost for words. "But you _said_ I was to..."

"Hey," Tony replied quickly, coming closer to give the god's arm a gentle squeeze. "Hey, what I said still stands. He's not gonna be able to just haul you off. Not in my house."

"Then, why are you bringing me to him?"

"Apparently his life is dull enough that he needs to point and laugh at a torture victim."

Loki raised an eyebrow, his demeanor slipping once more into the usual confident grace. "Did he laugh at you, then, when you returned from your trials?"

Tony let out a bark of laughter at the thought. He wouldn't put it past Fury to have spied with his little cameras. Tony could see him now, sitting behind a screen while he gave his speech and ate too many burgers. "He wasn't exactly in my life at that point, but I wouldn't be surprised if he was laughing as he watched the footage."

"He sounds as pleasant as I remember."

"Oh no," Tony said, shaking his head. "He's probably worse. You did, after all, kill not only some red shirts, but our precious Agent Coulson."

Loki frowned, pulling out of Tony's grip as it tightened slightly. "I was unaware he was actually dead."

"Yeah, I think you _might_ have hit a vital organ there."

"But I still sensed him for quite some time after..." Loki trailed off, looking unsure. "Although, I suppose I was, admittedly, a little distracted."

Tony raised an eyebrow and tried his damn hardest not to snap from anger. Okay, so Tony was allowed to be nonchalant about it, because that's his thing. Loki, however, wasn't allowed to act like it was nothing.

"Felt his _presence_, huh?" He asked stiffly.

But Loki was distracted, looking at something that Tony couldn't see. After a moment, he jerked a hand up and performed an elegant twist of the wrist. It was a little hypnotic to watch Loki's fingers flutter and twist through the air.

Loki hummed and let his hand fall. "I believe you have been lied to, Stark."

* * *

The inventor was silent as they entered the room, not even glancing at Fury when the man greeted him. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Loki tensed, waiting for any sign that Stark was going to speak. But the man simply crossed his arms and stared at Loki with a blank face. Fury glanced between them, clearly unnerved by the unusual silence.

"Okay then," he said slowly, giving up on Stark to look at Loki. "_You_, sit your ass down."

Loki sat carefully, forcing a snarl back down his throat. He loathed being at the mercy of this sniveling human. Be it as it may, he was still a god, and he could still throw the man out the window in a single step.

"Now you listen up," Fury began, leaning back in his chair with a confident smirk. "I don't know or particularly care where you've been or what's been done to you. Here on earth, you're still a criminal. Now, Thor has told me how you 'paid your penance' back on Asgard. I say, you owe us a little penance too."

Loki, once more, bit back an inappropriate sound. This time, it was laughter.

"You wish for my blood?" Loki asked, a flashing a nasty sneer at the man in front of him. "I was abused for years on Asgard as recompense for my sins. I fail to see how such treatment can not count as some sort of payment."

"Don't forget the years of torture out in space, Reindeer Games."

Fury shot a glare at Stark, ignoring Loki's questions. "How do we know he's even telling the truth about that?"

"He showed up looking like he had been tortured for a hundred years?" Tony drawled, his voice dripping with venom. There was clearly something off about him, and Loki knew precisely why. He was just waiting for the man to explode.

"He could have done that to himself, Stark. I wouldn't put it past him."

"Sure, Fury," Tony said with a sarcastic smile. "The next time you can pop your own ribs out, shatter your shoulder blade, and crush your pelvis, you let me know."

Loki's head snapped around at his words. How had the mortal known the extent of his damages? After he had been _so_ careful too. Tony met his eyes and gave a little shrug.

"Jarvis."

"Ah," Loki replied, trying not to feel completely vulnerable. So the man had know the entire time how week he was. Loki had just assumed his safety was promised by fear. That Stark would be too afraid of Loki's power to try anything. Apparently, he was wrong. So why...?

"If you two are done making goo-goo eyes at each other, I'd like to get back to business."

Loki turned back to him, hearing Stark mutter something about goo-goo eyes from behind him.

Fury ignored the inventor and continued, "The captain and Thor have made their opinions on this mess painfully clear to me. I haven't heard from Barton and Romanoff, but I'm pretty damn sure they're not too happy about this. Seeing as the only option, other than my preferred choice of locking you away in SHIELD, is for you to stay here..." he glanced at Stark, raising an eyebrow. "I think you're gonna need permission from a certain billionaire you threw out the window not too long ago."

Tony looked up at the ceiling and nodded as though reminiscing on something pleasant. "Good times, good times."

Fury stared at him in mild disgust. "You are one fucked up individual, you know that?"

"Funny, coming from _you_."

"Excuse me?" Fury barked in response. "I'm not the one fondly remembering a near death experience."

Tony turned his head slowly and smiled at him with all the charm of a snake. "No, but you _are_the one who used Coulson's death as a way to get your hero's to behave. Or should I say, his faked death?"

The tension in the room was nearly palpable. As though even a single breath would cause it to shatter. Fury didn't even flinch at the accusation. He sat up a little straighter and let out a sigh.

"I honestly thought you would have figured it out sooner."

"I'm sorry, I generally don't have to second guess people's deaths," Tony snarled, leaving his post by the wall to stand directly behind Loki. " I mean, I don't trust you in any other way, so I guess if should have known."

"You know damn well why I did it, Stark. I don't have to justify my actions to you!"

"No," Tony agreed, "You don't have to justify anything. What you do have to do, is get the _fuck_out of my tower."

Finally, the director looked taken aback. Tony had been keeping his tone calm and sarcastic, as usual. But he finally slipped into a dark, threatening voice that Loki had never heard before. If he were a lesser being, Loki would have felt fear.

"You don't get to order me—"

"You're in my home, Nick," Tony interrupted, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder carefully. "I can make you dance the fucking samba if I want."

Stark gave his shoulder a squeeze. It was possibly an attempt at being reassuring, but right now it was only causing Loki to tense up more. Stark was actually starting to scare him a little. He was willing to admit that much to himself.

Fury looked torn between taking his gun out and shooting them both, or leaving quickly.

"Regardless of your... _issues_ with me, we still need to work this out," Fury tried carefully.

Tony kept on smiling and said nothing else.

"Stark," Fury tried again, beginning to stand up.

"Leave."

"God dammit, Stark! You can't act like a ten year old piece of shit every time things don't go your way!"

Loki felt something snap in the air along with the feeling of Stark's fingers digging deeper into his shoulder. He flinched at the merciless voice that came from behind him.

"Not 'getting my way' is having George Cloony fail to come to my birthday party. Not 'getting my way' is finding out my favorite donut is out at the nearest coffee shop."

Tony's smile fell at last before he finished, "_This_, Fury, is not a temper tantrum. _This_ is not some fucking game between us, and _this_ conversation is over."

Fury left as quickly as he came, only managing to mutter about his agents keeping an eye on them before Jarvis kindly showed him out by means of an Ironman suit.

The door shut, Stark let go of his shoulder, and Loki felt the air return to the room.

"Well that was something," Tony said.

Loki snorted, half in amusement and half in relief at the return of Stark's usual flippant self.

"It was something I would have rather avoided."

Tony hummed in agreement and threw himself down in the same chair Fury recently vacated.

"So he's really alive then, huh."

Loki nodded silently in reply.

"That figures. Here I was actually feeling torn up about someone other than myself, and it turns out he's just fine. Taking a little trip to Cali right now, according to you."

"Yes, he seems to be in perfect health," Loki said, avoiding Stark's eyes. He stared, instead at the table in between them.

"Good," Tony said, standing up again to crack his back. "It's one less thing to hate you for."

Loki smiled bitterly to himself, knowing full well that there was more than enough things left for him to hate Loki for. He cast a quick glance up at Stark to find the man looking at him strangely.

"Yes, have I something intriguing about my person?"

"_Maybe_ it's just nice to see you looking a little healthier," Tony replied easily.

"I do feel better, yes."

"Good, let's get you a room then."

Loki stood, still eyeing the inventor as he left the room in front of him.

"Why have you been defending me?" He asked uneasily. "As you said, you only have one less reason to loath me."

Tony snorted from down the hall a ways, turning back as the god got closer. He raised an eyebrow. " like I said before, people change. I didn't mean just you."

Loki felt something fill the air around them. He met Stark's gaze calmly, searching for answers to all the questions that kept piling up. There was nothing he could be sure of, other than the fact that there was no hatred in those brown eyes.


	4. When I Find Myself In Troubled Times

Things went relatively well for having a god of chaos living in a den of heroes. Well, until the epic battle between Loki and Clint in Tony's kitchen. Yes, his kitchen.

He had made it shit-perfectly clear to stay out of everyone's way. See no evil, hear no evil, don't go looking for a fight with evil.  
So what did Clint do? The second Tony left Loki to himself and went to finish his suit, Legolas walked right into his personal kitchen and taunted the god. It wasn't for a long time afterwards did Tony take a look at the recordings to see exactly what had happened.

* * *

"Boy have I been waiting to get you alone," Clint said nastily as he entered the kitchen. "About time your body guard took a break. You controlling his mind too?"

Loki had already turned full around from where he had been trying to use the toaster. All his previous attempts had failed miserably, and he was just getting a handle on it when he was rudely interrupted.

"Of course not," he snapped, not bothering to hide his disdain. "I've made it perfectly clear that I was never able to control Anthony, and I do not intend to."

"So it's 'Anthony', huh?"

"That is his name." Loki leaned back against the counter, relaxing his posture in an attempt to appear less threatening. It didn't seem to matter, the man was looking for a fight.

Clint looked thoughtful, playing it up a bit by tapping his chin. "You know, I find it strangely ironic, you being tortured and all."

"Ironic?" Loki replied slowly, his voice dripping with venom.

Clint moved closer, his finger still tapping his chin. Loki had a sudden temptation to cut it off.

"You know that Tony was tortured, of course."

Loki paused, failing to see the connection. What was the mortal implying, exactly?

"Perhaps. I only know what you and he have told me."

"Isn't it funny, then," Clint said, stepping even closer, "that you should disappear and come back with some sob story about being tortured. Sounds oddly familiar, doesn't it?"

Loki snarled, and jerked forward to grab the man by his shirt. The fabric ripped under his strength, causing Clint to flinch slightly.

"You will hold your tongue, mortal," Loki hissed, his face inches away from the archer's. "Do not speak of things you know nothing about!"

Clint growled, "Or you'll what…?"

"Or I shall cut that tongue out of the harebrained head of yours."

Clint smiled. "Yeah, there's the Loki we all know."

A knife flashed and Loki had seconds to jerk away before his neck was sliced open. With a snarl, he leaned back against the counter and kicked out with both of his feet, sending the archer flying into the stove.

"I do not want this!" Loki shouted as Clint stumbled to his feet. "I have no desire to fight you."

"Sure you don't. I've seen the looks you give everyone." Clint paused and flashed a cruel grin. "Well, everyone except Tony. Got a soft spot for the Ironman, Loki?"

Loki hesitated for a moment. A moment was all Clint needed to throw his knife at Loki with unnatural speed. The blade embedded itself into Loki's chest near his shoulder.

With a grunt, he tore it out and glared at Clint. "I do not wish to fight you. Anthony swore to me and to Thor that I would be safe here. He vouched for you as well, Barton."

"He doesn't keep his promises. There's a surprise."

With that, Clint launched himself across the kitchen and dove into Loki. They fell back heavily against the counter, Loki smashing his head hard on the stone edge. For a second there was nothing but bright lights and a strange sound before he was whisked away into unwanted memories.

* * *

When Loki had heard about someone's death through the whispers of the other prisoners, he never expected it to be anyone important. It could have been Thor, or Odin, or Fandral. But no, it was the only person in all of Asgard who mattered to Loki.

Thor didn't come for him. He didn't come to tell him of her death, nor to comfort him. It was in that moment that Loki knew that all ties had truly been cut. Because she was his mother too, and she was gone with nothing but a word from some servant in passing.

"Lady Frigga is dead."

Loki screamed. Curses flew from his lips and echoed off the walls of his cell. His little cage designed to keep him contained. So shuffled and hidden away that no one even told him the queen had died. That his mother was gone.

So when they came for him, he was prepared to die. Not without taking some of them with him, of course.

They poured into his room like hot lava into the sea and the room became a smear of magic, bodies, and blood. They finally caught ahold of him after he managed to rip another of their soldier's throats out with his teeth. There was a light, then Loki fell away and became nothing.

* * *

When he next awoke, he had no other wish than to be back in his cell on Asgard. For the thing that woke him was pain. Soul shattering pain that echoed throughout body and shook him to his bones. Then, it was gone. He was alone, laying on a stone floor in utter darkness. The small room felt damp and hot, two things that greatly disagreed with Loki's heritage.

This time, his prison itself was a form of torture. The heat alone was enough to cause him great suffering, but the never ending darkness was starting to wear on his eyes. He often found himself half asleep with eyes wide open and staring, simply because he thought they were already closed.

After several days of the Room, he was ripped from the darkness once more. The light was blinding and burned his eyes so badly he was seeing spots. There were rough hands dragging him to their destination. His escorts remained complexity silent, and Loki learned nothing of his new captors.

Upon reaching their destination, he was placed into a second room, even smaller than the dark one. Then, it was nothing but pain. Cuts on his skin, blood blossoming across his body. Crushing one limb, and than the other until they were reading to snap. Then a pause.

Then they started all over again.

Loki was never asked a single question, or ever told why they wanted him there. He never knew who, exactly, had him tortured for year after suffering year. No one uttered a word to him, not a question or a command. He was fed, sparingly, by another silent guard. They sometimes went for days simply ignoring him. No food, no company, nothing.

By the time he finally lost his mind, 14 years had passed.  
By the time he got it back, another 20 had passed in silence.  
On his 21st year in their captivity, Loki began to sing.

He knew all the ballads of Asgard by heart. He knew most of the elven songs, and some of the dwarfs. He forgot the song of the Frost Giants, and he had only heard one song from Midgard.  
That blast of sound that signaled the arrival of the Ironman.

So he sang. He sang to the damp walls of the Room a lullaby his mother used to sing him to sleep with. During his tortures in the Small Room, Loki sang a fighting song he and Thor used to sing together. When they walked him between his rooms, he sang a crude song about women who do anything for shiny stones. When he was most afraid, still shaking with pain from his most recent excruciation, he hummed that song he barely knew and had only heard for a moment in Germany. He never knew why, but it never mattered.

* * *

The day of his escape was not pretty. There was no glorious battle, or any dignity to be had.

Loki ripped organs from their chests with his bare hands, tore ears off with his teeth, and even managed to crush one between a door. The majority of his success was pure and simple luck.

Lucky that his guard came alone today, instead of the usual two. Lucky that Loki ran into only three other units until he was outside. He last stroke of luck was when he found a teleport station. It was manned by at least Twenty men with a variation of long and short range weapons.

He tore through them in ten minutes.

In the process, he was shot, stabbed, burned, had his hair ripped out, and something happened to his hip. Over all, it was worth the damage just to get to the device. The teleport device that would send him home. Loki's heart swelled at the thought of seeing Asgard's golden columns rise above him again. As he began to work his way through the controls, he realized that Asgard was actually no longer home.

The Aesir would not welcome him, even after all he had gone through. He had no illusions of any grander other than that golden cage, hidden away from the disappointed eyes of Odin and his golden son. No, he would not return there. Not when even his once brother had abandoned him.

But where? Where could he go to recover his strength and perhaps even grow a life again. He knew Odin would have warned the other realms of him, ordering them to return him to Asgard when they lay eyes on Loki. But perhaps, Odin would not warn the one realm no one expected him to return to. With a grimace, Loki set his course and stepped into the cylinder. For a tense moment, Loki feared the mechanism failed him. In his fear, he thought of the song that brought him the most comfort.

The next thing he knew, he was looking into the eyes of the same man that the song belonged to.

* * *

Someone had heard the crash from the kitchen. That someone just happened to be Steve, so maybe luck was on Loki's side for once. Because as soon as the captain saw what was going on, he ripped Clint off of Loki and marched him right out of the room. Tony had been called up a few minutes later to 'take care of his god'.

"Jesus!"

"Please refrain from screaming right now," Loki said, attempting his usual drawl. Tony was not fooled.

"Jesus," he repeated in almost a whisper. "Who did this? You're bleeding all over again."

"It is hardly 'all over', Stark. I simply fell."

"Fell backwards and hit your head then decided to fall forwards onto a knife?"

"Precisely."

Tony gave him a sour look, his lips pursed together and his arms crossed. This went on for a while, the clock the only thing filling the silence.

Until, at last, Loki muttered, "Barton came in looking for a fight."

"I hope you gave him one," Tony replied testily.

"I did not. My aim was to avoid a confrontation."

Tony hunkered down started poking around at Loki's wounded shoulder. "If someone attacks you, you attack them right back. Even if it's me."

Loki's smile was a little strange. Tony couldn't quite place the emotion behind it, and decided he was probably just in pain.

"Would you attack me, then?"

"What?" Tony asked distractedly. His full attention was on the bleeding hole in from of him.

Loki leaned a little closer to him and muttered one more, "would you attack me, Anthony?"

Blinking, Tony turned sharply to meet Loki's eyes. "No."

"Barton mentioned you were not so terribly good at keeping promises."

"I keep the important ones," Tony corrected him, reaching behind his head to brush his fingers over Loki's bleeding scalp. Loki's lips drew together in a thin white line, but he didn't make a sound.

"It feels like it's already healing," Tony said quietly, still concerned.

"Of course it is," Loki replied with a hint of a smile, "I do heal rather fast."

"Then why do you still have a few scars from—"

"Those are different," Loki snapped and pulled away from Tony.

With a small huff, Tony pushed himself up and grabbed Loki in one swift movement. Tony saw, and ignored, the spark of fear in the god's eye as he pulled him off the floor.

"Come on, time to bloody my bed again."

"I am perfectly—"

"You're not fine," Tony interrupted, already pulling him to the elevator. "You're shaking worse than when we pulled you out of the creator."

Loki went silent behind him, and Tony didn't press it. It was painfully obvious the god had been traumatized by something during his brawl in the kitchen. He had that haunted look Tony had seen reflected in his own mirror one too many times.

Once in the elevator, Tony wondered to himself once more if he should put in an AC/DC only speaker. With a smile, he started to sing.

"_I'm like evil I get under your skin  
Just like a bomb that's ready to blow_—"

"That song," Loki interrupted suddenly.

"What? Don't like it?"

"What is it? I've heard it before somewhere," Loki replied carefully.

Tony looked at him and thought back to where the god could have possibly heard it. He drew a blank.

"It's called 'Shoot to Thrill'," Tony said with a smile. "It's one of my favorite songs."

"I like it."

Tony sang the entire song for him, and when Loki asked him to sing it again, he did.


End file.
